birthdays and other trials
by Sarsalot
Summary: Bridget's reflections on birthdays, children, and Mark Darcy


Disclaimer: Bridget Jones' Diary, and The Edge of Reason are the property of Helen Fielding, not me.

A/N: I realized when re-reading the Bridget Jones books that there are no entries for Easter, so I decided to write one.

**Easter**

**Thursday 21 March**

_9st 1 (bad), alcohol units 12 (but is birthday), cigarettes 25 (reasonable, considering), assorted calorie-loaded celebrationary foods - god only knows._

**11a.m. **

Uggh. Have officially been thirty-one for eleven hours now. Is horrible. Am turning into old maid. Mother's call at ungodly hours in the morning still horrifying fresh in memory: "Oh, hello darling, happy birthday, did you get the present?" – ignores self's groans or pain and horror -  "I saw it in a catalogue Una gave me and I thought you simply must have it  - how's Mark?" 

"Ummm .."

"Una and I were wondering about that. Have you been seeing each other much lately?"

At which point, Mark rolled over, grunting in his sleep. "Actually -"

"I do hope you have been, darling. You're thirty-one now - can't put these things off forever, you know, daddy and I were married with Jamie by the time I was your age, you career girls, I just don't know, Bridget, honestly I don't - "

"Know what?"

"Oh dear, daddy's calling - no doubt he's got into some sort of trouble in the kitchen. Happy birthday darling!"

"Bye, mum."

Mark gave me a lovely necklace for birthday, though after conversation with mother was somewhat disappointed when contents of black velvet box did not turn out to be a ring.

Shazza, Jude and Tom decided to take us all out for dinner tonight, considering 'what happened last year.'  Huh. Was not _that much of a mess - just because I had a slight mishap with the pies, though Sharon assured me they just meant they didn't want me getting tired out - still suspicious._

**Friday 22 March**

_9th 2 (but post-birthday), alcohol units 3 (v.g), cigarettes 12 (good)_

Oh god. Was so hung over after celebratory bottles of wine last night completely forgot about  Sit Up Britain meeting, which am _supposed to advise. Boss (Nina - horrifyingly Perpetua-like woman) just rang, asking why the hell I missed it. Fucking hangover. In fact, had to have a drink to calm self down. Well, maybe more than one drink - two. Am not drowning sorrows or anything, in fact, read in paper today that red wine is apparently good for health - am sure it applies to all alcohol - what's the difference, honestly?_

Magda rang up today in a complete state, asking if I'd mind watching the kids tomorrow, as she has to go and get E-G-G-S for E-A-S-T-E-R. Was not in the best of state's, to be perfectly honest, and took her a few goes before I got it. Apparently they were in the room at the time, so the spelling out of words regarding Easter  was necessary. Was a bit dubious, remembering last time baby-sat Magda's kids, but am sure they've grown out of the burping/crying/throwing up/needing nappy change period now and are complete angels. And if all else fails, can get Mark to help.

**Saturday 23 March**

_9st 1(stress causes weight loss, it seems), alcohol units 0 (oh god), cigarettes 2 _

**4.30pm Huh. So much for little angels. Harry, while having grown out of the colicky-nappyish stage, now possesses ability to walk, and mysteriously managed to get into bag (mine not his) and retrieve packet of Silk Cuts, and proceeded to chew on them, then throw up all over carpet.**

Normally darling, helpful goddaughter had just lost a tooth, and as a result bounced up and down constantly, offering to show me it (in plastic container full of mysterious smelling liquid received from dentist), and the large gap in her mouth - clearly visible whenever she was talking, which was constantly, so was really no need, esp. after about the fiftieth time today.

Mark said he had to work when asked if he would mind helping last night, some big case which had just come up that day, so am on own. Rang up office halfway through day, but he said would be busy until tonight, but would come over if kids still here then.

Want to go shopping! Harry is crying again, and Constance is clinging to sleeve saying "I'm bored Auntie Bridget. Auntie Bridget? Auntie Bridget I'm bored. I've finished coloring in my book and I'm boooooooooooooooooored." 

**5.30pm Rang up Magda to ask what to do about crying baby and moaning goddaughter, and Magda said to take them to the park, but be sure button their coats, cause it's cold out. Harry is really quite adorable when not crying or wobbling round flat finding things that no child should be putting in their mouth, but sliding happily down slide, or on one of the little horses on springs - has been such an eye-opening experience. Found self-brooding about own lovely children, playing happily in park with me and Mark in near future. Maybe I'll have a daughter. Maybe she'll look like me, and I'll have a baby boy that has Mark's eyes - oh god, Constance has fallen off swing and grazed knee.**

**11pm Magda _finally got back at 6.30, saying there'd been some sort of accident and she'd been stuck in a traffic jam. Harry had finally fallen asleep on sofa sucking thumb and looking deceptively angelical, and Constance somehow managed to find something suitably rated on TV to watch, after a dinner of baked beans hidden somewhere in back of pantry. Mark turned up not long after, held up by selfsame traffic jam, and laden with wine and food from M&S, plus milk tray._**

Had lovely dinner, talking about what we'd done that day, and a smoke (normally Mark doesn't like it, but didn't seem to mind this time). Then Mark drew me a lovely warm bath and put me to bed - am astonished people can manage to have second or third children, when after one day of looking after two, am so tired cannot manage to arouse any interest in own sexy boyfriend.

**Tuesday 26 March**

_9st (am attempting to get weight down before Easter chocolate splurging), alcohol units 4 (had lunch with Sharon), cigarettes 14 (good)_

Have had v. busy day. Was another meeting of board for Sit Up Britain today, and after call from Nina when missed last one, thought had better be on time. Was on time - well, nearly. What's fifteen minutes to waltzing in with hair and makeup not properly done? Surely cannot be expected to think productively when am not properly groomed?

Mark was working late again, on Big Case, and decided to go over to office after work to see him. Traffic was horrendous, so when got there was quite late, but Mark was still working. Walked into office to see him sitting at big impressive-looking black laptop, with tie undone and shirt all rumpled, and stubble, looking dead sexy. Had to resist urge to fling self across room at him, since have not seen him since Saturday, after babysitting Madga and Jeremy's kids.

Mark suggested I go out and get food, and then go back to his place since he'd be finished up by the time I got back from shop. Was somewhat dubious, but Mark assured me he knew what everything in the big, scary kitchen was now, and could make food there now.

 Kitchen looked somewhat odd afterwards, plates and glasses strangely out of place on sterile white benches, so rinsed them off and put everything in dishwasher, then wiped all the surfaces, even though Mark said cleaner would do it tomorrow - just felt wrong to leave spotless looking kitchen with dirty dishes in sink.

Main bedroom, as I discovered later, is also still white - white carpets, walls, sheets, furniture - suggested Mark hire interior redecorator. Laughed at suggestion, and suggested that he get self to do it  - a sure sign of development in a relationship, according to _Men and Commitment: The Ultimate Guide, and__ How To Tell When Your Man's Ready To Commit And Get Him To._

Hurrah for commitment!


End file.
